


By Six Known Moons

by unreadlibrary



Category: Eternal Arcadia | Skies of Arcadia
Genre: But not required, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pirates, Post-Canon, Romance, an unappreciated pairing, and hoooo boy, because I posted this when I was sleep deprived, don't mind me I'mma just gonna sneak in an edit, i'm a sucker for the childhood friends trope, im blushing anonymously, one of my favorite games, stand alone one shots that could be read chronologically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unreadlibrary/pseuds/unreadlibrary
Summary: Every girl loves a pirate.
Relationships: Vyse Inglebard/Aika Thompson
Kudos: 1





	By Six Known Moons

“Let me untie your hair.”

Aika was standing guard at the window, watching the sun melt over the moon. Silver hung proudly: like an earring on a queen, that was the image Aika always had in mind when she was a little girl. Somewhat surprisingly, she had never pictured herself as said queen. What kind of queen would she be anyway—a pirate queen? That made her laugh. 

Aika had always been the type of girl to laugh at herself. To be honest. She had none of that allure that she saw in Fina. It’s not that Aika felt she was missing anything. Womanly charm or feminine mystique. It’s just that it was easier to distance herself from those thoughts. Thoughts were dangerous things; they grew with very little encouragement needed. Aika had always wanted the best that life had to offer. It didn’t do well to dwell on things that were outside of her control. You could steal treasure; you couldn’t steal beauty. 

But Aika turned from the window and saw Vyse staring at her. What had he said just a moment ago? He wanted to touch her, touch her hair. He had made some sort of friendly overture. Had her braids come loose? Did she look like she’d just spent the day whiplashed by wind (which was every day)? She must have looked ridiculous. Why else had he made a ridiculous request? He was being friendly, or funny. 

His look was neither friendly nor funny. In fact, his look made Aika actually feel like a queen. Which was probably the most ridiculous thing of all. 

“Sure,” she answered. Her casualness was very practiced. She was in control of this situation. She didn’t need to babble on her mind about what Vyse had meant by something so simple. What she felt for Vyse was deep-rooted and going nowhere. Here was a boy she’d known since childhood. Here was a man she’d fought an entire empire for. She trusted him. He respected her. They could cheat each other at cards, bleed at one another’s side, tell a hundred inside jokes, and not a day would go by when their relationship might feel stale or stilted. If being bound by the inexplicable bonds of piracy wasn’t enough, they’d known each other their entire lives. Nothing either of them said now could change or cheapen that.

Aika sat on the edge of her bed and smoothed her hand over the yellow bedspread. Vyse sat beside her and began undoing one side of her braided pigtails. 

“You wore your hair like this when we were kids,” he said, his tone even and hard-to-place. 

“It’s practical,” Aika shrugged, keeping her own tone as light and cheery as a pop of bubblegum, “I’ll probably be wearing it this when I’m old and gray. Like Mama Oosaw. Remember her?”

“Yeah,” The breath he let out, one of concentration as he came across a snag in her hair and attempted to smooth it out, caused a warm wave to cascade over Aika’s shoulders. It cut off a synapse in Aika’s brain; she forgot to speak for several moments. 

It was a comfortable silence. Another perk of knowing somebody so long. Occasionally, the calluses of Vyse’s fingers brushed the base of her neck. She liked the square shape of his digits and the attractive clean cut of his fingernails. Vyse wasn’t exactly slovenly with his appearance. He’d never gone a day out of pirate uniform. He kept things in order: ship logs, favors owed, his own fingernails. Competence and confidence, Aika had always fancied, were attractive qualities in anybody. 

He had both braids loose and had begun brushing her hair with her silver comb-and-brush set. It was the most feminine thing that Aika owned and she loved it. A memento of her mother’s. She loved the way it gleamed on her vanity and reminded her of the comforts of home whenever she came back from long flights. Aika had always loved her little cottage here on Pirate Isle. It was actually quite rare to have anybody else here with her. She had so few moments alone, and something about one’s home was naturally solitary. Aika wasn’t really a private person, except when it came to these daily, solitary habits: lying down and getting up, getting dressed and brushing your hair.

“You think I should wear my hair different?” Aika asked. 

Damn her, but her voice sounded so _soft_. She coughed, cleared her throat, attempted to ask the question in a voice that didn’t sound like she might actually be capable of delicacy. She knew women started sounding more light and delicate when they were trying to create a certain atmosphere with a man, and Aika could kick herself for creating that kind of atmosphere. For the first time since Vyse had shown up at her door, she felt uncomfortable with him being in the same room with her. This was _her_ sanctuary. 

“No,” Vyse answered before she could correct herself, “But it doesn’t hurt to change on occasion,”

It had gotten darker. Vyse finished scooping her hair across one shoulder and then put her brush set away on the vanity. A sudden rush of adrenaline and lingering discomfort coursed through Aika and she stood up and fiddled with the hooked quilt that served as a curtain. She was suddenly aware that anybody could waltz by her house and see her and Vyse standing there, alone. 

“I don’t want things to change,” Aika said. She didn’t see so much as felt Vyse turn to face her. She steadied her hands by keeping them bunched in the fabric of the patchwork quilt and drew it across the window. The brief relief of privacy. Except now she felt even more alone with Vyse. Her heart beat faster. The cause was ambiguous. It probably made no difference if she was nervous or excited, if what she felt bordered on pleasure or pain.

“What’s going to change?” Vyse asked her. Damn _him_ now, he was acting like this was easy. Or maybe she was just over-thinking. Thoughts were like weeds; pesky, unwanted, easy to grow.

“Maybe I’m just tired,” Aika laughed unconvincingly.

“Aika,” 

Vyse had gotten closer to her without her realizing. She had never really cared how close he got before; it hadn’t meant anything but trust and friendship and familiarity. Maybe nothing was different. Maybe Aika was just feeling funny. The moon could do that to a woman, Mama Oosaw used to say. It was Mama Oosaw who’d had to explain to Aika more than one mystery about growing up to be a woman. How the moon affected a girl’s mood, her blood, her sense of clarity. 

“Aika,” Vyse said again, just a whisper in her hair, “What’s so different? You’ve always been my best friend,”

“Then what—” Aika began, “What?”

Her face was still turned away in crescent profile, but he stood in front of her and carded one of his hands through her hair. He’d done a good job—no tangles. That made Aika laugh. 

Vyse laughed himself, “You making fun of me?”

Her smile wobbled. She still couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“Aika, I promise, if you don’t want this—then it never happened,”

He still stood there, carding his fingers through her hair. She felt something she’d never felt before when his thumb slid over the slope of her shoulder, met right at the curve of her neck, even braved the top of her clavicle. These were all private places, untouched. It was so simple and intimate that Aika lost control of her smile again. It wobbled back and forth, and her face couldn’t decide if she should break out laughing or crying. It was all too much, but it wasn’t like this feeling was new. 

Oh, there was a very key difference. If Aika didn’t stop her hand right now, it would cross this divide that would change one fundamental thing about their relationship. Vyse was right; none of the important things would change. Not their friendship, or their respect for one another, or their history. But changing the course of your future, with one simple gesture, was terrifying. Aika placed her hand on the back of Vyse’s head and enjoyed the sight of his throat swallowing in anticipation and his eyes not trying to let too much soul shine through all at once. She played with the strap of his eye patch, removed it. If she was going to go into this without any armor, it only seemed fair. 

She felt a little dizzy. His eyes were the color of wine. She closed her eyes to steady herself, and instinctively tilted her head. 

He tasted like spices, and the warm fan of breath met her before his lips did, so that she already had goosebumps before he kissed her. There was something about the way he held her, with a gentleness that Aika never knew he possessed. Swagger, bravado, boyishness, she knew all that. Handy with a gun, swashbuckling with a sword, nifty with knots. Compassionate, open, friendly, honorable. But thankfully, never a goody-two-shoes. Every girl loves a pirate, after all. 

“Aika,”

She liked all the things he didn’t say. He buried his face in her hair and said her name again, like he was saying everything. When she shivered and didn’t do a very good job of covering it up, he attempted to soothe her by running those blessed hands up and down her back. He moved reverently over her shoulder blades and the small of her back, with wonder. This did very little to suppress Aika’s shivering. She rested her chin on the top of his head. She was exposing her throat and hoping he’d take the hint. He did. He mapped it with his mouth and they both came away breathless. 

In all the penny romances Aika had secretly read, this was the part where Aika would lose interest. All those shaded feelings and convoluted flirting rituals and peeks of ankle and melodrama just to get to a hot breath, heavy petting, sometimes even a play-by-play between the sheets. Perhaps because it seemed that it was all there was to reveal. Nothing ran any deeper in all the novels she read, so she’d figured romance wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Aika pulled away and was slow to open her eyes. She was hoping when she opened them that she wouldn’t feel that way about Vyse. No, not about Vyse, her best friend, her captain. Her heart beat faster just thinking about the way he’d swing himself aboard ship tomorrow and look longingly at the sky. How that body would now fall into place for her, those eyes search for and lock onto her the way they locked onto every treasure they’d ever discovered, every wonder they’d ever marked on the map. 

She opened her eyes and realized she had nothing to fear.

Oh, the _way_ he looked at her: her with her hair all loose, no silver to adorn her, and every inch a queen. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have been meaning to write something for Skies of Arcadia for a very long time.


End file.
